


Simple Gifts

by Ealasaid



Series: A City In Shadows [13]
Category: Homestuck, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Mobsterswitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealasaid/pseuds/Ealasaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dog, no matter how much you wanted one, was out of the question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Gifts

For some reason, it just never occurred to you that getting an actual Aberdeen terrier was a thing you could  _do._  It never seemed particularly wise when you were a detective working long, strange hours to have an excitable scampering thing that needed some sort of regularity and also probably a constant supervisor. You couldn’t bring one with you on the job, either, not when you needed to blend in more often than not. A dog, no matter how much you wanted one, was out of the question.

Of course, being out of the question was never a thing your lover much cared for. Peccant Scofflaw took great entertainment in being out of the question and piping people along behind him down the road of no return. So on some level, when he casually plopped the tiny ball of black fur on your stomach one afternoon you were lazing around in your nice, new apartment, you weren’t surprised.

“What the fuck is this?” you demand snappily, startled out of your nap. You look down at the thing, which made some squeaky noises and tremulously stood up under your irritated glare. It was so horribly cute your outrage switch shorts out, leaving you with your jaw dropped as the puppy wiggled a tiny black nose at you and started investigating your shirt.

“Whaddaya think it is?” Scofflaw says mildly. “It’s one of those Scotty dogs.”

“No shit,” you reply, eyeing the dog in question as it starts gnawing a button. “What is it doing  _here_?”

“Oh, that,” he says, and waves a hand dismissively. “I just found him around. I thought you might like him.”

You poke the puppy and watch in fascination as it growls at the invading digit and wobblingly attacks your finger. “Really,” you say absently, more interested in the way the dog is trying to wrestle with your hand than Scofflaw trying to come off as a good guy. He starts spinning this engaging tale about a clichéd story of abandonment and alleys and fisticuffs with the depredations of life, but it all goes entirely over your head while you flip the puppy over and watch it struggle back to its feet to attack your hand.

It is utterly adorable. You scratch it behind one tiny ear.

Aware of a sudden silence, you look up at Scofflaw. He’s eyeing you speculatively with a grin, and you narrow yours at him in reaction. “What?” you snarl.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” His grin gets wider. “You going to keep him?”

“It’s a present, isn’t it?” you snap back.

“You’ve burned a whole lot of my presents.”

“They weren’t  _alive_.”

“You could kill him,” Scofflaw suggested with a leer. “I think there’re some rituals that he could be useful for.”

“NO!” you screech, and you snatch up the puppy out of Scofflaw’s questing hands. “Back off,” you hiss, and kick him away.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says breezily, as though you hadn’t just knocked him back three feet.

“Damn straight it’s a yes, get the fuck out of my apartment!” You’re on your feet in seconds and dragging him for the door. He doesn’t put up much of a fight, he’s too busy laughing, and you throw him out easily and slam the door shut behind him.

The puppy squeaks from where you’ve got him tucked up against your side, and you absently nudge his nose with the knuckles of your other hand. Then you realize you now have your own tiny terrier and “Shit,” you say, “how the fuck do you take care of a puppy?”


End file.
